


Speak Now

by powerwisdomandcourage



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Bottom Sherlock, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Johnlock Roulette, Light Dirty Talk, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive John, Rough Oral Sex, Shyness, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 01:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3310862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powerwisdomandcourage/pseuds/powerwisdomandcourage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wants Sherlock to try talking dirty in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Speak Now

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my amazing friend and beta reader effystonem

“How come I’ve never heard you swear, Sherlock?” John had been curious about this for a while. 

The two had been together romantically for almost six months. John had seen the detective hurt, frustrated, and angry many times, but he had never heard a dirty word come out of Sherlock’s mouth. He looked up at John over his bowl of curry, and gave him an offhand shrug.

“I’ve never felt the need to, I suppose. I like to think I can keep my composure fairly well.”

“Have you ever cursed at all? In your life?”

“I’ve tried it out a few times. It kind of makes me uncomfortable. I cursed in front of Mummy once as a teenager, and she washed my mouth out with soap. I’ve not tried it since.”

“But you don’t mind when I do it?” John was no stranger to swearing and dirty talk, not afraid to say whatever he was feeling and using all the colourful language in his vocabulary on a daily basis. John always let himself go in the bedroom, telling Sherlock exactly what he liked, what he was going to do, and giving him filthy encouragements that made the detective blush.

“You’re free to express yourself however you’d like.” Sherlock stated dryly as he gathered their now empty dishes and carried them to the kitchen. He dumped them in the sink for John to wash later. 

John had relocated to his chair, reclining and pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to chase away a headache. It was an ordinary Saturday afternoon and the men were alone at 221B, their landlady away in Brighton for the weekend visiting family. The doctor gazed at the detective, who was now preoccupied with some experiment or another at their kitchen table. He had big plans for Sherlock today, and had been looking forward to this time alone all week. 

“Sherlock,” John leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the armrests as he felt his cock begin to fill out in anticipation. “Why don’t you come here, love?”

The detective eyed him warily before noting the dark look in John’s eyes, and the slight bulge in his trousers. He knew exactly what John wanted, and didn’t hesitate to abandon his experiment and cross the sitting room, assuming his position on his knees between the doctor’s spread legs. He immediately felt John’s hands running through his hair, not pulling just yet, but urging the detective to lay his head on the doctor’s still-clothed lap.

“John...” Sherlock breathed in the other man’s scent as he rested his head centimetres from John’s almost fully-erect cock, still trapped by his pants and trousers. 

“You have such a gorgeous mouth, love.” John traced his thumb over the detective’s bottom lip, before pushing his head up off his lap. “I want to fuck your throat, Sherlock. I want to watch your eyes water as you choke on my cock. Look at me, love.”

Sherlock moaned as he glanced upward to meet John’s eyes, seeing the soft desire written on his face. But there was also something darker, something possessive in his eyes. John wanted to claim Sherlock today, and every word he said sent a spike of anticipation down to the detective’s cock, beginning to grow inside his cotton pyjama bottoms.

Sherlock nudged his nose against the bulge in John’s trousers before reaching with his hand to unzip them. John obligingly lifted his hips as Sherlock dragged his trousers off of his hips and all the way down his legs. John was left in his everyday plaid shirt and navy cardigan, with his hard cock clearly outlined through his red pants.

Sherlock let out small sighs and moans as he nuzzled into John’s bollocks through his pants. He tongued up John’s length, soaking through the pants as John kept his eyes fixed on his detective, hands still carding through the younger man’s hair. Sherlock breathed hotly onto John’s shaft before he reached up to grab at the waistband. He pulled the pants down, and dropped them with the trousers, pooled at John’s ankles.

Sherlock eyed John’s cock as it was released from its confines, daunted by its impressive girth, though it was only of average length. The foreskin was already fully retracted and drops of precum were beading at the tip. Sherlock licked up the shaft before taking the head into his mouth, with John moaning above him. He moved to grip the base of John’s cock but John grabbed his wrist before he could get there.

“Hands behind your back, love. You won’t need them.” John pushed on Sherlock’s shoulders until the detective pulled off of his cock, a string of saliva still connecting them. 

John stood up, looming over Sherlock, who was still on his knees and now had his hands obediently clasped behind his back. Sherlock’s mouth was at the perfect height to suck cock, and his lips were shining with saliva and John’s precum. He maintained eye contact as John guided himself into Sherlock’s pliant mouth, all the way in until he hit the back of the detective’s throat.

“Oh fuck, Sherlock...that’s nice...” He withdrew himself and pushed in again and again, going deeper into Sherlock’s throat each time. He knew that Sherlock had a lot of practice suppressing his gag reflex, but he could still see his eyes shining with unshed tears from taking John in so deep.

“Mmmf...” Sherlock couldn’t hold his breath much longer and pulled back until John got the hint to withdraw. He kept his cock on the detective’s face, stroking himself lightly as he smeared his precum on Sherlock’s tongue and bottom lip.

“You’re such a good boy for me. You have such a clever mouth.” John started pushing into Sherlock’s mouth again, approaching his peak. 

“Oh, fuck, Sherlock. That’s it...take it...I’m so close, love.” John felt the constant pressure of his cock head pushing against the back of Sherlock’s throat. He could see saliva dripping down his detective’s chin, and could see Sherlock’s neglected cock straining hard against his pyjama bottoms, leaving a wet spot near the waistband. John couldn’t tear his eyes away from Sherlock’s heart-shaped lips wrapped around the base of his prick as the detective let out small whimpers at John’s short thrusts.

After a few more moments, John’s thrusts became erratic and he reached down to grip the base of his cock, stilling his movements completely. He was just on the edge of orgasm, but pulled out of Sherlock’s mouth before he peaked, with a frustrated cry. As he was calming down, he saw Sherlock reaching down to touch himself.

“What did I say, Sherlock?” John was angry as he fell to his knees and swatted Sherlock’s hand away from his prick. Sherlock’s hand instead moved to his mouth to wipe off the saliva there.

“I need to come, John. Please.” Sherlock couldn’t keep the whine out of his voice as he gazed at John, who was now leaning in for a slow kiss. Their mouths moved together, unhurried, for many long moments, neither man feeling any sense of relief.

“It’s okay Sherlock. You know I’ll take care of you. I love you.” John pressed another quick kiss to the edge of Sherlock’s mouth before standing, pulling the detective up with him. He pulled his pants and trousers up and left them unfastened around his waist, his hard cock peeking out from under his shirttails. He grabbed Sherlock’s hand to pull him to the bedroom, the detective still rock hard as he followed along behind him.

“Lie on your back for me, love.” John instructed once they reached their bedroom. He pulled down the covers as Sherlock situated himself in the middle of the mattress, on his back with his knees splayed open, still pyjama-clad. 

“That’s it, love.” John reassured the detective as he leaned over his body and tugged his grey t-shirt up and off until Sherlock was left in just his bottoms. 

“John...please, touch me...” Sherlock was squirming on the bed, unable to stay still as John caressed his chest, paying special attention to the detective’s small, hardened nipples. When John reached his waistband, Sherlock lifted his hips. John lifted the bottoms over Sherlock’s hard cock and dragged them down his legs and off, tossing them aside. Of course, John thought, he’s not wearing any pants.

“Hmm...you’re so gorgeous, love.” John muttered appreciatively, hands brushing against Sherlock’s thighs, still avoiding his cock, which was now leaking in anticipation. John felt his cock twitch at the sight of the detective; John was still frustrated from his earlier interrupted orgasm.

John gazed lovingly down at Sherlock, and sat down on the bed next to him. He reached for the detective’s cock and gave it a long, languorous stroke from the base upward, squeezing a drop of precum out of the tip as Sherlock moaned loudly, his head thrown back against the pillows.

John ceased his hand’s movement on Sherlock’s cock and put on his best army captain voice.

“Look at me, Sherlock.” Sherlock’s eyes opened and met John’s. He was already so close from John’s one stroke of his prick. “I want you to beg me for it. I want to hear how filthy your mouth can be. Tell me what you want, Sherlock.”

“I-I want...ah, I want you...to touch me, John.”

“I’m going to fuck you, Sherlock.” John reached for their half-empty tube of lubricant and set it down on the bed next to him. “First, I’m going to shove my fingers inside your greedy arse until you’re writhing on them like the dirty whore you are. Then, once you’ve opened up for me, I’m going to shove my cock into you and fuck you into the mattress. Is that what you want, love?”

Sherlock shoved a fist against his mouth to muffle his moans as John resumed stroking his cock, using the leaking precum as slick. 

“But first, I want you to beg me for it, Sherlock. Use all those filthy words that you never say. Let me hear it, love, it’s just you and I.”

“John...I need you to fu-fuck me...I want your cock inside me, make me come...please, John. Fuck me, John...I need you.” Sherlock could feel his arousal growing at his own confession, the words unfamiliar to his tongue

"That's my good boy." John now obliged Sherlock by bringing his fingertips, dripping with lube, to the detective's tight hole. He rubbed it across a few times before gingerly pressing his middle finger inside. He could hear Sherlock keening above him, fist pressed against his mouth and cock dripping onto his stomach.

Once John had worked two more fingers into him, he deemed him ready. He gently pulled out and wiped his fingers on his trousers before removing his trousers completely. His pants and shirt followed until it was just the two men, completely bare to one another. 

“Love you.” John reached up and rested on his elbows on either side of Sherlock’s head, his lips pressing against the detective’s. The kiss was deepened briefly before John pulled back, situating himself back on his knees between Sherlock’s spread legs. “Are you ready?”

“Mmm...yes, John. Fuck me.” The detective could feel his cheeks burning as he became more comfortable talking dirty with John.

John was also becoming more aroused as he heard Sherlock’s deep baritone begging for him, and he pressed his cock head against Sherlock’s slick opening, meeting some resistance. Sherlock let out a consistent low moan as John pushed slowly all the way inside, bucking up when John briefly pressed against the edge of his prostate.

“Fuck yes, John...unngh...fuck me...” Both men were close to the edge, so John wasted no time in setting a steady pace. He rocked into Sherlock urgently, pushing against the younger man’s prostate with each thrust. It was only a few moments before John could feel the familiar tightening at the base of his stomach as his orgasm approached.

“Sher-Sherlock...are you close, love? Touch yourself.” Sherlock’s hand drifted down to his cock and he began to shallowly stroke the head, his hand gliding easily in his precum. 

“Yes, John...I’m so close...fuck...” They were fucking frantically now, both sweating as John’s thrusts became uncoordinated. 

“Take it, Sherlock...take it...” It was a particularly hard thrust that sent Sherlock over the edge, his vision blurring as his fist was shoved against his mouth once more to stifle his cry. Stripes of cum streaked against his stomach as John steadily fucked him through it.

As Sherlock relaxed against the bed, he could feel John still rock hard inside him. He reached up to stroke his thumb across John’s cheek as the doctor continued to lightly thrust, chasing his own release. Within moments John’s orgasm hit as he let out a low groan, leaning down to bury his face against Sherlock’s chest. His body shook as he released his load deep inside of Sherlock, his orgasm stronger from his previous denial.

“Fuck...that was good, love.”

“Mhmm...” Sherlock sleepily nodded his agreement, exhausted.

When the aftershocks had subsided, John was still lying against Sherlock’s chest, and could feel the detective’s cum drying between them. He groaned as he pulled away, getting up to grab a damp flannel to clean them up with. 

When he returned from the bathroom with flannel in hand, he found Sherlock already asleep, despite it being three in the afternoon. He ruffled the sleeping detective’s hair before gently wiping down both their chests. He didn’t want to risk waking the detective by attempting to wipe the drying lube from between his thighs, so he left it.

John discarded the flannel and quietly crawled into the bed, tucking himself behind Sherlock and pulling the detective into his embrace. He pressed soft kisses against Sherlock’s shoulders and neck as he felt the detective’s soft snores rumble against his chest. John knew he wasn’t tired enough to join Sherlock for his nap but was content to lay there with him until he woke up. 

As John lay there he wondered if Sherlock’s new vocabulary would translate into everyday life or if he would save it just for John, in the bedroom. When it was just the two of them against the rest of the world.


End file.
